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hybridstorm Jul 2020
My heart tenses,
I look down,
the blackness is pouring out of me.
I am dying,
like I have many times before,
I wonder what I will be born at this time.
My face flinches,
this hurts.
I look up at fleeting stars,
I breathe in the light cold breeze,
I bid adieu to the black trees
and smile at the curios cat peering at me.
I leave,
not knowing much,
just knowing the fact that I will surely meet the ever-encompassing,
BLACK!
Life is full of challenges, you will make a fool of yourself regularly, learn to roll with it. Do not worry and waste your time, take action. Never give up.
Life is too short to focus on the negatives, accept and move on.
Serendipity Jul 2020
Her frizzy hair
was simply
an invisble halo
being wrapped
in strands of gold.
a silver of a gunslinger,
is a silver of gold
silver is a gunslinger silver of gold
gold is a gunslinger gold
gold is a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger gold is a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger is a fool of gold

a gunslinger is a fool of silver
fool is fool’s silver
fool is fool’s gold
fool is fool’s silver gold
fool is fool’s silver gunslinger
silver gold is silver silver
silver rule gold

silver rule silver
a gunslinger gold is his rule of gold
a gunslinger gold is his rule of silver
gold rule gold
a gunslinger rule gold
a gunslinger rule a gunslinger silver
a gunslinger rule a gunslinger gold
my writing is called philosophical writing. i only uses middle ages words,words liked gracious,extravaganza,etc… when i’m referring a gunslinger i’m referring back in the western. this poem is about the rule of gold is the rule of silver back in the western. i don’t add capitalization’s on my writing.
Karyna Holleman Jun 2020
its time to say goodbye to paris
to the dreams of you/a typewriter/ an early morning cigarette
to you forgetting your coffee until its grown cold
to the muse I used to be with a glass heart and amber dreams
a golden room collects dust and unfulfilled daydreams
I erase our paris from my memory
lua Jun 2020
when we kiss
it's as if i press my lips
on precious gold
so smooth and cold
it cradles the light
in its grasp so tight
and leaves me blind
and asking for more.
When evening comes, warm light floods our living room and
bounces off all the quiet angles of your skin.
The rays drink deeply from your pores
as all the gold in the world fills our little home,
and we’re the richest people alive.
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